Dragon's Egg
by Nyarlathotep
Summary: Begining of a story, primarily from Jajuka's viewpoint, filling in the gap when they returned Celena to him. Any critisism/advice is greatly appreciated. Unfinished draft.
1. Default Chapter

Jajuka and another servant stood in front of a window, overlooking a garden. The dog-man's expression was worried, and most serious. The other, for his part, was simply bored. He tapped his fingers against the metal window frame, and occasionally glanced up at Jajuka, but mostly kept his gaze on the plants outside. There wasn't much to look at, outside or not. The garden was so perfectly manicured it was barely any different from the artificial walls surrounding it. The hallway was blackened metal and piping. The floor was a line of bolted plates, distinguishable from the ceiling and walls only because of a faint line of inevitable footprints, tracked in from the garden by countless boots.  
  
Both men wore the same simple green uniform, no armor, no robes, and nothing to signify rank. The vast bureaucracy that was Zaibach didn't bother to waste money on decorating its lowest rung.  
  
"The subject's mind rejected the past ten years, so the sorcerers want her under strict, constant supervision. Mentally, she's five, and she's been exposed to two failed attempts at stabilization so far. That's unsafe. So they called you in. Feed her, water her, clean her, and keep her from doing anything that would damage the project."  
  
Jajuka nodded, slightly, but didn't reply beyond that. The other servant shrugged and kept talking. His voice picked up more authority, and soon he was looking the dog-man right in the eye. It wasn't often that he got to speak down to someone. They were equals, technically, but one was human, one was free, and that gave him an excuse to get arrogant.  
  
"This does not mean that they trust you, only that the subject does, and they think that will be useful for the time being. The sorcerers warn that any further marks against you, regarding the subject, will result in treason charges and your termination." The man held his head high, and repeated the orders as if they were his own. Jajuka's nose twitched.  
  
"She is important to the war, I know," Jajuka said, and that made the other servant snicker.  
  
"Adolphos has not requested the subject be returned to him, or that the Dragonslayers be reassembled." He folded his arms. "The sorcerers have ordered that you not interfere, and that is reason enough. Understood?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The human scowled. He wanted a 'sir', or something, tacked on to that. "You've been given restricted access to this wing. And you will be watched." His boots squealed against the floor as he spun to walk off, leaving Jajuka alone in the narrow corridor. The gold furred canine simply dropped his hands to his sides and padded off in the opposite direction.  
  
Most of the subjects that needed tending to were animals. The human experiments usually resulted in quick termination, and tended to keep Jajuka away from the humans, anyway. The children weren't treated much better than the animals, and he'd seen how the experiments affected the minds of the poor creatures. Horses slamming themselves repeatedly into the walls of their pens, rats gnawing off their own limbs, and other such things, were daily occurrences in the laboratories where he worked.  
  
There were the few successes, of course. There were silver furred war horses who never spooked, never broke their charge, and had to be reminded to eat and drink, lest they starve for want of battle. There were snakes and lizards with twice their intelligence, and the trainability of much brighter mammals. They constantly escaped from their cages, and almost seem to take delight in being as much trouble as possible. The humans, and, more often, beast-men, emerged from the process incomplete beings, and usually ended up dying on the table, or killing themselves soon afterwards. There was Dilandau, who was, at least to the public eye, a brilliant success at creating the perfect soldier, focused, aggressive, and without remorse. It was an unrepeatable result, and one that proved far less stable than originally hoped. But now he was held back somewhere in a child's mind, who was, itself, held in the body of a fifteen year old girl, who sat quietly, in a corner of the garden, pulling the wings off a butterfly.  
  
"Celena?" She was nothing like how he remembered her, except for the look in her eyes and the vague smile tugging at her mouth.  
  
"Jajuka!" The girl dropped the butterfly. The insect was mortally wounded, and just floundered around on the grass. Celena's hands were stained with yellow and orange dust from the wings. She wiped them off on her dress and jumped to her feet.  
  
She bounded over to Jajuka, and threw her arms around him, laughing a little. "You came back," she said. He smiled.  
  
He put a hand on her shoulder, and took a step back. Celena took a step forward, clinging to him. Jajuka realized she was crying, and whined softly. He pushed her away from him, then looked down at her.  
  
"Shh, little one. It's all right. I did come back. I'm here to look after you again."  
  
Celena stared up at him, her wide, innocent eyes still full of tears. She said nothing.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"It's dead."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The butterfly's dead."  
  
"That's what happens when you pull off a butterfly's wings, Celena," he said, gently.  
  
Celena didn't answer, and flopped down on the grass. She poked the twitching bug with her finger and whimpered. Jajuka knelt beside her and cupped his hand over the poor thing, shielding it from her.  
  
"It's still moving."  
  
Jajuka sighed and pressed his hand into the ground, putting the butterfly out of its misery.  
  
"Why did you pull off its wings?"  
  
"I didn't think it would hurt it. I've never caught a butterfly before. They're always too fast. But isn't it supposed to be like a flower?"  
  
"Celena, it's a living animal. Its wings can't come off, just like that."  
  
Celena tucked her knees up under her chin.  
  
"No, I've seen wings fall off before," she said, thoughtfully, then grinned, after a while, and hugged Jajuka again.  
  
"I'm so glad they let you come back. I'm so glad they let me see you again. You're not going away again, right? I've been very good. Really good. except for the butterfly, right? You won't tell them I messed up? Don't tell them I killed it. I didn't mean to hurt part of the garden." Her voice sped up, and went to a whisper.  
  
Jajuka hugged her back, and paused. He looked over at one of the garden trees, rather than her face. It was too odd, watching a young woman speak like the child he remembered. "I'll stay as long as they'll let me."  
  
"How long is that?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Oh." Celena scooted away from her guardian and dug her bare toes into the grass. "Let's pick some flowers, then. I know how to make a chain."  
  
center* * * /center  
  
It shuffled around in its cage, scaly hide brushing against the cold metal walls. Its claws clanked against the grating on the floor. It's breath echoed, hollow, up into the vents above. The dragon paced back and forth, and back and forth, endlessly, for hours, dragging its head inches above the floor.  
  
"It hasn't reacted to the tranquilizers."  
  
"Then increase the dosage."  
  
"Anything more will kill it."  
  
"You don't want to risk that? We need to get it under."  
  
"Not yet. Look. It's listening to us."  
  
"It looks up when people are moving around, sir."  
  
"We've been standing here for an hour, Penglen. Why would it raise its head to look at us now?"  
  
The dragon narrowed its eyes, and blew a cloud of steam onto the glass between it and the two in long, black coats. Penglen shrugged and scribbled something down, and the dragon resumed its pacing.  
  
center* * */center  
  
Jajuka stood in front of the mirror in his temporary quarters, pulling tangles and dandelions out of his hair. Nighttime was his only time to himself, and even so, he was a door away from his charge. She was finally asleep, and after the rat nest that was now his hair was taken care of, he'd be following suit. There wasn't much else to do. The sorcerers weren't the sort you could go to and ask for a book. His claws dug into a particularly stubborn knot, and he yanked it free, with a grunt.  
  
"Jajuka?" He hadn't even heard her open the door. He tensed, and his ears, under his mane, swiveled towards the voice.  
  
"Celena, you need to be in bed. They said you're to have eight hours of sleep each night."  
  
"But eight hours would mean I have to get up at -dawn-." So what's become of a soldier's discipline? Jajuka smiled slightly. "I don't like getting up at dawn, either. I've had to get up at dawn every day for the past fourteen years. But it makes me feel fat and lazy when I sleep until noon, too, so it all works out."  
  
"It's the best thing, sleeping real late on a cold day."  
  
"I won't argue with you there. Especially when there's a nice fire going nearby, hm?" He smiled, then cocked his head. "Are you cold?"  
  
Celena shrugged. "I'm not sleepy. Can I stay up just a little while?"  
  
"I can't let you do that."  
  
"Please? Ten minutes? You can say I had to go to the bathroom."  
  
"Celena."  
  
"How come you're bossing me around? We're friends, right? Let me stay up." She crossed her arms and stood defiantly in the doorway. "You're not my parents."  
  
"But I'm in charge of looking after you."  
  
"But you're not my parents! My parents aren't here at all!" She bit her lip and glared at him, quite ferocious, but only in the pending-tantrum sort of way.  
  
"But I care about you, Celena. We -are- friends. And friends look out for each other when they need help. So I'm here to look out for you now, since someone needs to, since your parent's can't be here. And that includes making sure you get enough sleep." Jajuka ripped another dandelion out of his fur, set it down next to the others, then rubbed his scalp. "Neither of us get to make the decisions about how things work here. We can make the best out of what they give us, though, and they're giving you a chance to be healthy and rested. That sounds silly, I know." He sighed. "Dawn comes very early, and by getting all the sleep you can, you'll feel much better tomorrow. I need to sleep, too. I'm very tired."  
  
"But I -need- to stay -up- another fifteen minutes."  
  
"I thought it was ten."  
  
She threw her arms to her sides and stomped her foot. "Jajuka! I don't want to go to sleep!"  
  
Quietly, Jajuka walked towards her, took her hand, and started towards Celena's room. Celena yelled in protest, and yanked her hand away. Her fingers balled into fists as she ran back into Jajuka's room. She sat on the edge of his cot, staring down at her fingernails, and picking at the one on her pinky. Jajuka sighed, shut the door, and followed her back in.  
  
"Why can't you sleep, little one?" Jajuka sat down next to her, and Celena continued to inspect her nails.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Do you feel sick?" Jajuka sniffed the air, suspiciously. The chemicals they kept pumping into her gave her an unnatural odor, at least to a dog's nose, and he wouldn't doubt for a minute that it made her feel as bad as it smelled.  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you have a bad dream?"  
  
"If I can't sleep, why would I have a dream?"  
  
"Good point."  
  
"I want a glass of water."  
  
"Ah."  
  
Jajuka pushed himself up, and padded over to the dresser beside the mirror. He poured half a glass of water from a plain metal pitcher into a plain metal cup. He smiled politely, and handed the drink to the girl, who gulped it down eagerly.  
  
"How old am I, Jajuka?"  
  
Jajuka's smile quickly disappeared. He waited for a while, as he poured himself a glass, and drank all of it in one swallow. She watched. He wouldn't get off the hook that easily. "You're fifteen years old."  
  
"I'm supposed to be five and a half," she replied, crossly. "How can I be fifteen and five and a half? I haven't even had that many birthdays."  
  
"Perhaps that's a question for the sorcerers, little one."  
  
"They'll hit me."  
  
Jajuka coughed into his cup. He could feel his hackles rise, and his voice came out as a growl, which he quickly tried to cover up. "They hit you?" Of course they hit him, he was a beast-man and a slave, but this one was supposed to be their prized project, their closest success, and an innocent child.  
  
Celena nodded, and for a moment, her face twisted into the snarl Jajuka kept himself from showing. "I hate them," she hissed. She clenched her fists again, and the worried edge of her fingernail cut into the flesh of her palm. "I. ow! Jajuka, I'm bleeding!"  
  
"Let's get you a bandage," he said, instead of telling her he hated them too. His face was calm, but his eyes mirrored the sentiment, narrowed slightly, looking past her, towards the door. Jajuka rummaged around in the dresser, and pulled out a white roll of cloth. He tore off a length of it, and sat beside Celena again, to tie it around her scratched palm.  
  
"It's just a little scratch."  
  
"Owwwww!"  
  
"A very tiny scratch. Though I know claw. nails do hurt a lot. You're okay. See?" He moved his hand away from the bandage and gestured towards it, like a magician showing off a trick. Celena peered down at her palm, and looked back up at her guardian, all wide eyed again. "Good as new." He chuckled quietly.  
  
"Good as new," she repeated, and leaned against the dog. She yawned, and shut her eyes. Jajuka glanced up at the ceiling, muttering some thank you to the heavens, and waited a few minutes before slowly standing to his feet. He helped the girl back to bed. She curled up under the covers, already dozing off when she hit the pillow.  
  
"All right, ten minutes," he whispered as he shut the door, and he tried to smile, if anything, for the man in robes walking down the hall.  
  
center* * */center  
  
"I don't think the problem was in the initial exposure to the fate alteration. We can pinpoint the errors in the others. There was none. The subject should have, by all the theories laid down in this experiment, remained in a fixed state. The error is not ours. The influence of the Ispano guymelef's distortion in obvious. The question remains, how do we fix this?"  
  
"Do we want to fix this? Lord Adolphos has expressed little interest in the project, especially after the subject's marked deterioration."  
  
"We could start again, with an unaffected subject."  
  
"Albatau represents decades of research. I cannot vouch for the subject's termination, if only for the chance to study the exact effects of the guymelef on the fate alteration. What we stand to learn about the external effects on a fate altered subject outweighs the difficulties, I think."  
  
"How many years of research are you willing to loose to suicide?"  
  
"I believe the risk of that would be minimal, if we stabilize the alteration properly. Until then, the dog is watching over the subject, and, at least in this regard, I think we have nothing to worry about."  
  
"Mother rats will devour their babies before they let anything else get to them. Mind that the dog doesn't pick up such bad habits."  
  
"It's listening to us."  
  
"It's drugged."  
  
"Then why would it open its eyes now?"  
  
"Get me another shot of tranquilizer, Penglen."  
  
"Yessir."  
  
Celena groggily turned her head, looking from glaring light above, to shadowy figures with the glaring light reflecting off their glasses, all around. She felt the prick in her arm, but couldn't find the energy to flinch away. Just like the voices, the pain was too far away for her to really bother reacting. The cold steel under her, burning against the skin of her bare legs, that was the only real discomfort. She squirmed a little, or thought about squirming, before the lights above began to fade, then went out, one by one.  
  
It slept, curled up in its pen, though something woke the dragon, and its gleaming red eyes opened to slits. It grunted, and pulled up its head with some effort. Its neck could barely support its massive skull, but a ledge on the side of its enclosure worked just fine. A misshapen beast, the dragon's bones were too large for its body, or it's skin too small, or somewhere in between. Its teeth stuck out of its jaw at odd angles. Its wings were so small as to be unnoticeable.  
  
Its scales were brittle white. Its claws were equally brittle, cracked and chipped. But, somewhere, in its twisted frame, it summoned up enough strength to lunge forward, and throw itself, headlong, into the wall. The metal shook and rang, and the dragon's bones vibrated with the force of the blow. There was a dent there, next to its favorite headrest, from repeated bashing. It was the most movement its keepers could coax out of it.  
  
It grunted again, slowly shook its head, and flopped down onto the floor again, tail curled tightly against its body.  
  
With speed none of the sorcerers would expect, it jumped up to its feet and threw itself at the wall again, tearing and clawing at the metal prison. And this time, its teeth caught on a tiny gap between the plates. It bit down hard, and yanked its head back. Several bloody fangs dropped to the floor.  
  
The dragon considered its progress for a moment, then reared itself up to its full height, and lurched forward. Propelled by sheer bulk, the creature impaled itself onto the jagged corner of metal, and went still once more.  
  
"Jajuka, you're needed elsewhere."  
  
Celena froze, her fork halfway from her plate to her mouth. Jajuka looked from his lunch, to her, to the messenger standing at the head of the table. The dog set down his fork, nodded dutifully, and rose to his feet. Celena frowned and stood with him.  
  
"Stay here, Celena. The sorcerers need me."  
  
"Don't go!" she pleaded. The green clad messenger watched stoically, but shifted his weight, ready to wait out an argument and stand around for a while, instead of running off again for new orders.  
  
"I must."  
  
"But you have to come back!"  
  
"It's probably just something they need to talk to me about. Don't worry. They've assigned me to you."  
  
"They said nothing about separating the two of you," the messenger said, waiting for Jajuka to finish before speaking. "So shall we?"  
  
"See?"  
  
"Oh." Celena sat down again, and jabbed at her eggs. Then she smiled sweetly at the messenger. "Can I come too?"  
  
"That's not mine to decide."  
  
"But did they -say- I was to stay here? He's assigned to me. He's supposed to go where I go, so if -he- has to go somewhere else, that means I have to go, too." Celena held up a finger as she spoke, and stopped to swallow a mouthful of egg. "Unless they said so, right?"  
  
Jajuka chuckled and shrugged up at the blond haired, young man. The messenger leaned from one foot to another, and eyed the girl critically.  
  
"You're going to get us both in trouble, you know."  
  
"If they didn't say you couldn't do it, how can you get in trouble?"  
  
The messenger sighed, and turned to leave. "They're expecting you in room four-sixteen, in a ten minutes. I didn't tell you she -could- come, either, mind you, so it's on you're head if they're displeased. Got it?"  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
Celena beamed. Jajuka shook his head, and kept himself from smiling.  
  
center* * */center The woman in gray armor looked the pair up and down, tapping her pen on a tablet in hand. "Yeees, I see. Well, she can't come in with you, it's too dangerous. One of the animal subjects has impaled itself on a jagged edge of its cage, and it needs to be pulled free so it can be given medical attention."  
  
"Has it been tranquilized?" Jajuka asked, as Celena pushed past him, to get a glimpse through a narrow window. The dog-man pulled her back with a hand on her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and turned her focus to the woman instead.  
  
"Normal tranqs haven't worked, and the sorcerers aren't willing to risk loosing it to larger dosage."  
  
"It's a big one, then," Jajuka said, with no change of expression. The woman nodded.  
  
"You and five others are going in, in melefs."  
  
Jajuka nodded, and dropped his hands to his sides. Celena scowled.  
  
"Six people in melefs?" she asked. The woman nodded slightly, largely ignoring the girl. "Six people in melefs -why-? What's in there? I want to see. Can I watch, Jajuka?"  
  
"No," the woman said, and tapped her tablet again. "You'll come with me. I have some reading you can do." Celena continued to scowl, and scraped her toe along the ground.  
  
"Are you going to be okay, Jajuka?" she asked, and the dog-man nodded. "But. melefs are dangerous. I heard that. What's in there?" She jabbed a finger in the woman's direction. "You said it's dangerous. So why's he going? Why can't I know?"  
  
"It's not for you to worry about." The corner of the woman's mouth twitched, and she tucked her pen behind her ear. Her hair was cropped shorter than Celena's, straight and brown, a purely military style.  
  
"But I -am-, so it's too late for it to be mine to worry about or not. I don't want him going anywhere where he's gotta be in a melef. It's something big. What is it, a dragon? You can't put five people up against a dragon, not even in melefs! Jajuka!" Her voice rose to a shout. "You need at least a guymelef, and if the dragon's cornered. Jajuka, if it's cornered and wounded it'll breathe fire, Jajuka. I won't let you go, you can't go, it'll kill you, Jajuka. Don't go!" Near hysterics, she latched herself onto the beast-man, clutching his sleeve, and wouldn't let go.  
  
The woman took a step towards Celena, bent back her arm, yanked her free, and shoved the girl back towards the door. Celena yelped, and slumped against the wall, cringing down a few inches, but, at least, calming down. Her breathing heavy, she stared daggers into the woman. Her fingers clenched, but she remembered her palm, and gripped the sleeve of her medical gown instead. The soldier didn't back down. She wasn't angry. It was the irritation of a drill sergeant, one soldier reacting to another, and roughly.  
  
"I am the commanding officer here. You are not in proper authority here or anywhere, until told otherwise, and I highly doubt that. You will follow orders. You will defer to me. I do not care who you are or what state you're in. You will accompany me to my office and leave the dog to his duty. Is that understood?"  
  
"Lieutenant, with all due respect." Jajuka took a step forward. "She will go with you, and I will accompany the other five, but first, a word with you?"  
  
"Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes, lieutenant," Celena barked dutifully.  
  
The woman took a step away from Celena and nodded to the dog, curtly.  
  
"Celena, I need to speak with the lieutenant alone, please."  
  
"But, Jajuka." She whispered, as if lowering her voice would keep the woman from hearing.  
  
"I'll come for you when I've finished the task."  
  
Celena nodded, pointedly avoided looking at the woman, and slipped out.  
  
The woman had her pen in hand, again, and was back to tapping the tablet, probably without realizing she was doing it. Jajuka quietly shut the door behind Celena.  
  
"What they've done to him throws me off. I knew him, before all this mess. I didn't mean to step out of line, but there are only so many ways to get through to him."  
  
"She doesn't remember anything, lieutenant."  
  
"So the sorcerers told me."  
  
"And the sorcerers don't want her to hear anything that would remind her."  
  
"I know what the sorcerers ordered, Jajuka. How can you listen to him."  
  
"Her."  
  
"How can you listen to -her- and think she's a blank slate?"  
  
"She's not a blank slate, lieutenant. She thinks she's five, but a five year old is not stupid, nor is a five year old a soldier."  
  
The woman folded her arms, with the tablet tucked away, and continued. "You are, as the Lord Dragonslayer pointed out," she smirked, "going into a dragon's pen. This dragon is, however, bleeding to death, and weakened. The other five have had standard melef training as well. Subdue the creature, pull it free, and hold it still for medical staff. You'll be given the specifics of how restrain it when you're suited up."  
  
"Yes, lieutenant."  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
center* * */center  
  
Celena sat in the metal chair, legs barely short enough to swing back and forth, though they hit the ground more than she remembered they were supposed to. The little things threw her off. She kicked the ground, and her slipper squeaked against the polished metal. The lieutenant cringed at the sound, and pretended to ignore it in favor of her paperwork.  
  
The woman was sitting at an impossibly neat desk, scritchscritching away at the tablet. A little well of blue ink sat next to her pad of paper, and she rhythmically dipped the pen, tapped off the excess on the side of the jar, and drew it across the page.  
  
"This is too hard to read."  
  
The woman ignored her. Celena peered down at the stack of handwritten copy in her hands, all in meticulously neat, blue script  
  
"The writing's so small, and I don't know these words."  
  
"Figure them out from context," the woman muttered in a pause between words. A drop of ink fell to the page, and she hmphed as she scrambled to blot it out.  
  
Celena stared at the page again. Blah, blah, blah, melef, blah, blah, blah. city, blah, blah, blah. She ran her finger along the first line of text, and whispered the words to herself.  
  
"Would you please read silently?"  
  
"I, uh."  
  
"Honestly. You're fifteen years old, and you can't read silently?"  
  
"I'm five," Celena said, without much conviction. "Jajuka said I'm fifteen, and he said to ask the sorcerers about it, but they make me so tired I can't ask them anything." She shuddered and sunk into her chair. That only brought more skin in contact with the metal, and that reminded her of other things. She sat up straight, then half stood and pulled the edge of her gown down further, and yanked on her sleeves.  
  
"Has Jajuka ever lied to you?"  
  
"Nope." Celena rubbed the goosebumps on her arms, and swung her feet faster.  
  
"Can you look at yourself and see how old you are?"  
  
"I -know- I'm all grown up now. I know. I don't feel like it. It's like I. woke up and it was different."  
  
"Mmmm."  
  
"I'm sorry, lieutenant. Do you want me to stop reading? I'll just sit here and I'll be quiet until Jajuka comes back."  
  
"That'll be a few hours." The woman's voice dripped doubt. "You can sit still that long?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"You're so timid now." The doubt stayed, and the scratch of her writing resumed. "I don't suppose you remember me, do you?"  
  
"Uh, no."  
  
"Mmm. You spoke with me once. I would assume you also knew my name, though I don't know if you remembered it even when you would have."  
  
"What? I'm. sorry, lieutenant." Celena kept fidgeting in her seat, watching the door like a hawk. Maybe if she thought hard enough, a few hours would turn into a few seconds somehow. "Ma'am, lieutenant. ma'am. I don't understand."  
  
"Mmmhmm. I'll tell you what. If you don't want to read, you can sweep out the corners of my office. Think you could manage that?"  
  
"I guess so." Celena frowned, and bit her tongue. Chores. Great.  
  
"Wonderful. There's a broom and dustpan in the closet over there."  
  
Celena stood and shuffled off. The soldier watched, over the edge of her notebook, and grinned.  
  
center* * */center  
  
Six metal suits shambled into the enclosure. Weakly, the dragon moved its head in their direction. A slight movement, barely noticeable. The powerful muscles along its neck bulged, even with that motion, ripples under the scales, like a snake.  
  
Six beast-men, the expendable ones, separated from this wounded creature only by these mechanical shells, inched towards it. Its tail snaked around, scraping against the floor, and for every step the six took, the faster the tail swung around.  
  
Its blood pooled on the floor, dripping, slowly now, from the clotted mess around the base of its neck. There was life enough in the creature that, when one steel-blue Zaibach melef lunged towards that tail, it whipped up into the air, and struck the suit hard across the shoulder. The melef slumped back, precariously balanced on its feet, but the dragon lashed out again, just as hard, swinging at the head of the suit. Hardened scale dug through metal, wire and bone, and the top part of the suit, pilot's head included, clattered to the floor in a cloud of steam and liquid metal.  
  
"Shit!" one of the pilots barked. "Get the tail down!"  
  
Two of the melefs leapt forward, one towards the base of the dragon's cruel weapon, the other for the tip. They landed on their stomachs, squishing the tail between themselves and the floor. The dragon roared and thrashed, metal cutting deeper into its flesh, but the tail, at least, was secure.  
  
They forgot about three other lethal weapons, which readily presented themselves as the dragon spun, opening up a fresh flow of blood from its wound, and dug its claws into the back of the suit pinning its tail at the base of its spine. With a crackling rip, the dragon peeled the shell off the shouting cat-man, and put all its weight on that foot. The cat scrambled to free himself of the armor turned prison, and managed to slip all but his legs out of the capsule when the claw hit. He yelled as his legs were crushed into jagged metal. As the other melefs rushed to aid their comrade, the dragon's teeth sunk into the cat's shoulder, and tore his torso free from his hips. He was still alive and flailing when the dragon swallowed him.  
  
"It's reacting too quickly!" someone shouted, as the dragon brushed him aside, barely after he'd started for another restraining lunge. "Someone call in some backup! We can't handle this with four. ughfff.." The dragon pulled itself off the wall and rammed its oversized head right into the melef's chestplate. The metal clanged, and the suit fell backwards, onto the floor. "Shit." He scrambled to get to his feet, and would have met a similar end to the last pilot, if another melef didn't body slam the dragon, knocking -it- to the floor next to its prey. The two other remaining melefs piled onto its back, and the creature thrashed under the weight. The one on the ground clambered to his feet, while the other jumped for the dragon's head.  
  
Again, it moved before he had enough time. With a snap, the dragon caught the arm of the melef in midair, and shook it violently. The arm ripped free in a shower of sparks, and the rest of the suit flew into the wall with a jarring clang. The dragon rolled and knocked off the two melefs on its back, and threw all its weight onto one, claws spread wide. Another hiss of steam flooded the room, and more liquid metal poured out onto the floor, mixing with blood, and coagulating about as fast.  
  
center* * */center  
  
Armored footsteps ran past the office. Celena set down the dustpan and stood, listening. She jumped when someone pounded on the door. The woman looked up, coolly, and gestured for the girl to open it.  
  
Celena inched over to the panel and pulled it aside. Another gray clad soldier stood before her, and barely even looked at the girl before he called out to the lieutenant beyond.  
  
"Lieutenant Neranes, the dragon's gone berserk!"  
  
"What? How can it."  
  
"It's taken out three of the melefs."  
  
The woman jumped to her feet. Before she could get around her desk, Celena slammed into the soldier, knocking him aside, and barreled down the hallway, after the echoing sounds of military feet.  
  
"Oh, gods, stop her, would you?!" Neranes ran after the startled soldier, and the two chased the wide eyed girl down the corridor. "Celena, get back here!"  
  
Unencumbered by armor, and fueled by adrenaline, the girl kept ahead of the two soldiers, and pushed her way past the ones headed towards the pen. She didn't know the way she was going, only followed the sounds of fighting.  
  
She came to the outer room of the enclosure, could see the soldiers clustered around the thick window and the huge inner door, all waiting for orders and dreading that orders would put them in the room with the frenzied creature inside.  
  
"Jajuka!" Celena shrieked, and bolted for the door. Ten pairs of strong, gloved hands held her back. Her hands, however, were free, and found the hilt of a soldier's sword. Without thinking, she yanked the blade free of its sheath, and turned it sideways in her grip. She swung it through the air. The flat of the blade smacked into the side of the nearest warrior, and his leather armor couldn't absorb the full force of the blow. He fell back, gasping for air. She continued to whip the blade through the air, carving space for herself between the door and this mass of soldiers without wounding a single one. In the few seconds that bought her, she put her hand on the latch of the door, threw her weight against the bolt, and yanked it open. With a hydraulic hiss, the mechanism of the door kicked in, and the barrier slid away, metal grinding against metal.  
  
The crowd of soldiers rushed away. The snarls, clangs and shouts inside were suddenly five times louder, and the pungent smell of the animal's cramped enclosure flooded the air.  
  
"You idiot!" Neranes shouted. "Shut the door! Someone shut the door!"  
  
No one was willing to, and the dragon turned its heavy head right towards the open passage, saw its freedom, and the one girl in a green smock standing in its way. Two melefs, one armless, the other intact but dented, rushed towards the beast, taking advantage of the distraction.  
  
The dragon's gaze met the girl, and the giant, wounded beast went still, staring at her with its burning red eyes. The two melefs piled onto its head, and the moment was lost.  
  
"No! Get off its head! It's going to roll!" Celena shouted out, and the intact melef reacted quickly enough to that, jumping back before the dragon twisted out of the tackle and brought its weight down on the armless suit. The bird-man inside squawked, and fell silent. "Fall back!"  
  
The melef darted for the edge of the enclosure as the dragon thrashed. Then the burst of energy passed, and the dragon stood, again, on shaky legs. It couldn't keep its head off the ground now, and dragged it towards the single melef in the corner.  
  
"It's psyching you out, watch the tail!" The tail swung through the air, coming from the left, as soon as the first word left the girl's mouth. "Strike at its chest or it'll lunge!" The dragon moved as fast as Celena could shout, but the remaining melef managed to leap out of the way of the tail and slam its metal fist into the dragon's jaw. Instead of leaping forward, the creature snaked out a claw and caught the beast-man's suit in the leg. Claws scraped against the surface of the metal, leaving deep gashes that didn't quite cut through the outer shell. The dragon scooted away from the melef, backing itself into the corner. If its wings amounted to anything other than vestigial nubs, they would be spread wide. Celena narrowed her eyes and went pale. "It's gonna breathe! Get yourself cover, it's gonna."  
  
The dragon threw up its head, and the two sacs in its throat swelled. One deflated instantly, filling instead with blood from the dragon's neck wound. The other glowed, and the dragon opened its mouth, to the sound of liquid heated to a boil. The melef curled into a ball and rolled away as a gout of flame erupted from the creature's mouth, charring the remains of another, scrapped melef on the floor.  
  
"Hit him below the chin! Right. there, yes!"  
  
The rolling melef tumbled forward, and struck up at the creature with both arms, hitting it, hard, under its jaw. The creature's head slumped forward, and it collapsed back to the floor. Only the metal arms held up its head.  
  
"Claws, starboard!"  
  
It reached up towards the melef with bloodied talons. The pilot gripped the dragon's head and let the support go on his legs. Under all the weight, the head tumbled downward, and instead of striking metal, the dragon scratched open it's own head, instead. It bellowed in pain and anger, and the melef brought its fists down, hard onto the top of the dragons skull. The roar was cut off short, replaced by a low gurgle, as the head crashed into the ground, and the rest of the dragon soon followed. It was breathing, and it's tail twitching, but otherwise still.  
  
The soldiers outside were silent. Pinned under the dragon, the one remaining, intact melef struggled to worm itself free. Celena's sword clattered to the floor, and she whimpered.  
  
"Jajuka?! Oh." She took a step back, feet slipping on the metal floor, then ran forward, into the enclosure. She jumped over scattered melef parts and pools of cooling metal to the moving armor and the unmoving dragon.  
  
"Celena, get out of here!" Jajuka's voice roared from inside the melef. Celena didn't listen. She knelt beside the head of the suit and put her hands on the metal.  
  
"It won't stay down for long! Get out of there, now. Here." She pushed her hand between the warm, leathery hide and the metal, fumbling for the release catch. The hydraulics pushed the pilot's capsule open, and with enough force to move up the unconscious dragon's head. The golden furred dog-man scrambled out of the suit and grabbed Celena's wrists.  
  
"No, don't yell. Check the others." Celena wiggled free and darted over to the other fallen melefs. The bird-man was pinned inside the capsule. The release mechanism wouldn't work, though it released copious amounts of steam as it tried to. Inside the suit, the bird coughed quietly, and whispered assurances that he was, at least, still alive. Celena darted to another, but froze when she peered past the grating into the bloody cockpit. "Ohgodsno."  
  
"Celena, get out of here!"  
  
"Nonononono!" The girl screamed, and sunk to her knees. Jajuka rushed towards her, but the soldiers reached her first. They scooped her up in their arms, and hauled her off. The dog-man took one final step towards her, then darted away to safety. Lieutenant Nerenes looked to the girl's direction, then nodded to Jajuka, with a pointed look, as he left.  
  
center* * */center  
  
Celena sat on the corner of her bed, facing the wall, staring at the bumps in the plaster. At least it wasn't metal. At least she couldn't count the rivets and run her finger along the seams. Plaster. White walls, like an almost normal room. She'd been quiet for hours.  
  
Jajuka sat on a chair near her bed, watching her intently, quiet for hours. When she spoke, even after the long silence, it didn't surprise him. His canine ears picked up the intake of breath before she did.  
  
"How many died?"  
  
"Three. Megrin is conscious, he'll be fine. Tole, they're not sure of, but he's a strong man, I think he'll pull through. There wasn't anything they could do for the others."  
  
"And. and the dragon?"  
  
"It's still alive. The sorcerers are tending to its wounds."  
  
Celena nodded slowly, and craned her head to watch the dog-man.  
  
"You saved our lives, Celena. All three of us."  
  
"I was so scared, Jajuka. I was so afraid you'd die!" Celena turned back to the wall, picking at the bandage on her hand. "But I wasn't scared when I was in there. You're not supposed to be afraid in front of dragons. They don't like it when you're afraid."  
  
"I was terrified," Jajuka admitted, and smiled faintly, although Celena couldn't see. "I'm glad you were brave enough for both of us."  
  
"I'm scared now. I don't understand." Celena slumped forward, and leaned against the wall, forehead pressing into the plaster. "Something else is in my head."  
  
"Hush, little one." Jajuka stood and walked over to the bed. He stood above her, looking down, and thinking what he should say and couldn't. "It's going to be all right."  
  
"Jajuka, the dragon knew it was there. She knew."  
  
"She?"  
  
"Yeah. no, no, don't ask me how I know, I don't know! I'm not supposed to know anything about dragons!" She tore at a loose thread in the bandage, and ended up unraveling a good yard or two of string.  
  
"Then I won't ask. It's all right. Let me get that for you." Jajuka reached over and broke off the string.  
  
Celena wiped her nose, and tried to steady her breathing.  
  
"Maybe we should do something. We could tell stories, maybe, or do you want to go out into the garden for a little while?"  
  
"I want to go back home."  
  
Jajuka smoothed down the girl's hair, and sighed. She leaned against the dog, and sniffed back tears. The girl wouldn't cry, but she latched onto the dog-man, anyway. He was trapped the same as her. She knew he couldn't let her go home, but knew without him saying anything, that if it was within his power, she would have been home years ago.  
  
"Back home, I wanted a dog. Please don't be mad if I say a normal dog, like an animal dog. I know you're not an animal dog."  
  
"You've never told me about your home," Jajuka said, and smiled softly. That encouraged her.  
  
"I know." Celena bit her lip, but continued. "My mother said we could get one, when I got older. Allen said that wasn't fair, he wanted a dog, too, but I said we could both have it, so it was fair, but. I came here instead. Did they take you away, too?"  
  
"My kind is expected to serve, so we serve. I haven't seen my family in a very long time."  
  
"Do you miss them?"  
  
Jajuka nodded. "Every day."  
  
"We should run away. You can come see my family."  
  
"I don't think that would be safe, Celena. The sorcerers and the army are very powerful. All we can do now is try to make it the best we can, and I know it's not anything like being with your family. someday you'll see them again, I know it. Let that be your strength."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"My father told me, before I left to serve, that people with power can force you to do what they want, and that the world will try to take as much power away from you as it can. But they can't take your thoughts, and they can't take who you are, if you don't let them. Like thinking about your family, knowing you'll see them again some day. They can't get through to you. That's strength."  
  
"I don't think I have that, Jajuka."  
  
"I know you do."  
  
"I think they -can- take who I am," she whispered.  
  
"I know." Jajuka cut himself off, and hung his head.  
  
Celena touched the tip of his snout. Jajuka sneezed, and raised his head.  
  
"But you have the strength to stop them."  
  
"How?" Celena asked, a high pitched whine.  
  
"I don't know how, but. there's always a way. Because otherwise you wouldn't go home to your family, and you and I both know you have to. Right?"  
  
Celena sat still for a long time, and finally reached over, and beeped the dog-man's nose again.  
  
"Celena. I'm not a puppy." He wrinkled his muzzle, and pushed her hand away. She almost smiled, and he could hear the beginnings of a laugh in the back of her throat, but Celena buried her face in his hair, instead, and Jajuka sat next to her until she fell asleep.  
  
center* * */center  
  
The sorcerers, perched on the edges of their chairs, watched her through their thick lab glasses. They hadn't spoken for an hour, and for that hour, Celena sat on her chair, swinging her legs and picking at her bandage, in the center of the circle. The lights shown down on her from above, turning her ash blond hair to glowing white, shining in the water of her eyes. Tired, she couldn't doze off under the scrutiny all around her. Bored, she couldn't speak, for fear of their reprimands, and she couldn't get up off the chair. Her legs stiffened, and her foot twinged with pins and needles when she moved it.  
  
Celena crossed her legs and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and her head in her hands. Like watching for night flowers to open at dusk, it was ages before one sorcerer finally moved one hand, raising it slightly. Movement, at last. Celena sat up straight and watched him, but another half hour passed before any of them spoke.  
  
"Are you ready to speak now?" one asked, his voice echoing hollowly throughout the chamber, shattering any illusions, created by the darkness, of a small room.  
  
"Can I go now?"  
  
"As soon as you answer our questions."  
  
Celena nodded, and clasped her hands tightly together. Her knuckles turned white. She uncrossed her leg and wiggled her foot, then, self conscious, set both feet down on the floor. She kept her gaze there, too, while the sorcerers bored holes into her with the flat, reflective disks of their eyes. "How much do you know about sword fighting?"  
  
"I. no, I don't want to."  
  
That earned her another ten minutes of silence. Celena sank into her chair, huddled up as small as she could get on the metal seat. She lifted her legs and rested her chin on her knees, armed wrapped around her legs. Her gown bunched up, and she uncoiled immediately. One of the sorcerers cleared his throat.  
  
"How much do you know about sword fighting?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"How much did you know back with the soldiers a day ago?"  
  
"I don't know, sir. I don't want to think about that."  
  
"Humor us."  
  
"I. just knew. I didn't know how, then I grabbed a sword and I -did- ."  
  
"Did you study swordplay in Asturia?"  
  
Celena's voice dropped down to a quiet squeak. She picked at the bandage again. "No."  
  
"How much do you know about dragons?"  
  
"Only stories."  
  
"Only stories let you judge the dragon's moves before they happened? Quick enough to shout out orders under stress? Do they teach that in Asturia?" There was a mocking tone in the otherwise stoic voice. Celena scowled.  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"How much do you know about melefs?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"How much do you know about Lieutenant Neranes?"  
  
"She said I was supposed to know her name, but I don't."  
  
"How much do you know about Bera Neranes' younger brother Dalet?"  
  
Celena sat up and blinked, limbs turned wooden. "Dalet." she breathed.  
  
The sorcerers nodded to each other, and one stood. Black robes hit the floor with the soft rustle of fabric. There was no sound of footfalls, only the steady figure drifting over to her chair.  
  
"How much do you know about Dalet?"  
  
"Where. where's Dalet?"  
  
"How much do you know about Dalet?"  
  
"I don't know! Leave me alone!" Celena turned on the chair, and buried her head in her arms, face pressed against the metal back. The sorcerer beside her put his hand on her shoulder, and his nails bit into her skin. "Don't touch me," she mumbled, and raised a hand. The sorcerer garbed the hand and twisted her wrist, then took her arm and twisted her around to face forward. She wiggled in his grip.  
  
Somewhere off in the darkness, someone else spoke. "She's leveling off, sir."  
  
"How long did it last?"  
  
"Twenty seconds."  
  
"Good. Bring me five drams of solution six."  
  
"Yessir."  
  
Holding her immobilized with one hand, the sorcerer took a syringe from a man wearing a green tunic like Jajuka's, and plunged the needle into her arm.  
  
"Ow! Take it out!"  
  
"Hold still." He pulled back the plunger, checked for blood, and, seeing none, injected the clear yellow contents into Celena's arm. She held her breath until the needle slid out of her muscle.  
  
The sorcerer let go of her arm, and drifted over to his chair. He took his seat again, and they were all quiet for another half hour. Celena rubbed her arm, working her fingers into the sore muscle, and watched the light reflections on the floor.  
  
"How much do you know about sword fighting?"  
  
"You asked me that."  
  
"How much do you know about sword fighting?"  
  
"I said this before. I don't wanna, I wanna go!"  
  
"How did you know how to drive back ten trained Zaibach soldiers without wounding a single one?"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
"Why did you call orders to a melef battling against a dragon?"  
  
"Jajuka was gonna get killed!"  
  
"When did you call orders to Dalet Neranes?"  
  
"No."  
  
"When did you call orders to Dalet Neranes?"  
  
Celena retched, and swallowed back rising bile. It left her throat feeling raw, and a sour taste on her tongue. She gagged and swallowed the saliva gathering in her mouth.  
  
"When did you."  
  
"Don't you know when to shut up?" she growled, her voice hoarse and low. "If I wanted to think about that, don't you think I would have spoken up by now?" She sucked in a breath of air, for a shout. "If I said I want to be left alone, maybe I'm not going to answer your questions!"  
  
Celena stood up, and one leg nearly gave out under her, numb. She gritted her teeth and put her weight on the limb as blood rushed painfully back into it. The muscle cramped up and tingled. She snarled, hobbled one step closer to the speaking sorcerer, and clawed her hand through the air.  
  
"I want out. If you want answers from me, if you want me to play along without ripping the skin from your pasty faces, you'll let me out."  
  
Her eyes caught fire and smoldered, red under the glaring overhead lights. The sorcerers merely nodded.  
  
Peering out past the sorcerers, into the darkness, she saw another pair of eyes to match her own. Her breath came in quick gasps. It felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.  
  
Images flooded into her brain. Clouds of smoke, billowing around her, swords striking against scales, teeth tearing through flesh and bone, talons ripping deep troughs into the earth.  
  
She barely noticed the sorcerers grabbing hold of her and shoving her back into the chair. She barely noticed that it took three of them to hold her down, and she didn't notice the restrains clamping her arms and legs into place. She couldn't move, anyway.  
  
Chasing, moving through the undergrowth, following a trail of blood.  
  
"Go away!" she shrieked, and shut her eyes, tight. The eyes, and the images, vanished, replaced with darkness and the pinch of steel around her wrists and ankles.  
  
"She's leveling again, sir."  
  
"How long that time?"  
  
"Sixty-five seconds."  
  
"Excellent. That's only half the enhanced solution."  
  
"We're finally making progress. Still, the subject's heart rate is very high. We should end for the day, and attempt full restabilization tomorrow morning. Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed."  
  
center* * */center  
  
Jajuka sat in the far end of the cafeteria, eating by himself, shoveling down today's lunch, another bland jumble of eggs, meat and beans. As some consolation, the cook gave him a glass of vino to go along with it. Bad, low grade stuff, but vino nonetheless. He picked up the glass, and took a tentative sip, hmmed softly, and drank a little more.  
  
"The sorcerers won't let you go with her?  
  
Jajuka looked up. Neranes stood above him, lunch tray in tow. The dog-man shrugged, and Neranes sat down across from him.  
  
"That your reward for letting them take her, huh?" She gestured towards the vino. Jajuka frowned and set down the glass with a thump. "Ah, I see."  
  
"Can I do something for you, lieutenant?"  
  
"Tolerate my company for a few minutes. I want to speak with you."  
  
"Of course, lieutenant." Jajuka set down his fork as well, and watched the woman intently. Neranes ignored the stare and pushed her food into a pile at the center of her plate before scooping up a forkful of the nutritionally balanced crud.  
  
"You did well yesterday," she said casually. "I'm considering putting in a formal commendation for you, to General Adolphos."  
  
"I'm not under the general's command, lieutenant."  
  
"But you could be. You handle a melef pretty well for a janitor."  
  
"We all go through the same basic training."  
  
"I know." Neranes downed most of her water, and cleared her throat after the last swallow. "Do you ever dream of going further, Jajuka? The sorcerers sure aren't going to let you get any further with them."  
  
"I work where I'm ordered to work, lieutenant."  
  
"Wouldn't you rather be ordered to work for someone who appreciated your talents?"  
  
Jajuka shrugged and began to eat again. He speared a bean with his fork.  
  
"You really are worried about her, aren't you? A little professional detachment would do you good."  
  
Jajuka shrugged again.  
  
"Speaking of separation," The woman smirked slightly, and leaned towards the beast-man. "Jajuka, there's no chance we're not going to win this war. When the war's over, they're going to need a whole lot less soldiers than they do now. They'll still need janitors. One of the two stands a good chance of honorably leaving the service, the other will be mopping up oil stains and mucking out stalls forever. You think about that."  
  
"I can't leave her, lieutenant, not until they finish what they've started."  
  
The woman sighed. "Naturally. But they will bring him back, Jajuka, and you would do well to keep as far away from Dilandau Albatau as you can."  
  
"They wouldn't let me get near him, before."  
  
"When they first created him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Maybe if you hadn't gone and made a fool of yourself."  
  
"Of course, I was wrong for that." Jajuka's eyes spoke a different story entirely. He looked the lieutenant dead on and frowned. "All I knew was that all of the subjects they'd taken before died on the table. I couldn't let that happen to her. But, things were successful, I was wrong to doubt the sorcerers, and I have spent the past ten years redeeming myself in the eyes of my superiors. For that, they've let me protect her again, and for that, I am grateful. I can't expect a human, if you'll excuse me, Lieutenant, to understand the extent to which my people value devotion. I swore to watch over an innocent, and I will continue to do so for as long as it is necessary, and as long as the sorcerers permit me to do so."  
  
Neranes nodded quietly as the dog-man spoke. "I wonder what it is about. her that inspires this kind of devotion," she said finally.  
  
"You speak of your brother?"  
  
"I did not bring him up, and you will do likewise." Neranes glared at Jajuka for a moment, before she turned her attention to her own meal. Her fork scraped against her plate as she scooped up a mouthful.  
  
"My apologies, Lieutenant Neranes," Jajuka said, and lowered his head.  
  
"I saw how he treated Dalet for that devotion," she said, despite her order, after a moment's silence. "I saw how little he cared for all the trouble everyone went through to keep him satisfied. My brother could have made a name for -himself-. But he made his choice, as you can make yours, Jajuka. If you think the sorcerers beat you for disobedience, you haven't seen what Lord Albatau did to his soldiers."  
  
"Somewhere under -that- is a five year old child who has no idea what is being done to her or why she can't go home. For that, I will stand by her side as long as I can."  
  
"You're a good man, Jajuka." She scooped up and swallowed another mouthful of food. "You need to be careful. You know as well as I do that no five year old child could have done what we saw yesterday, nor, I would imagine, an untrained fifteen year old girl."  
  
Jajuka shrugged.  
  
"At any rate, come speak with me, in my office, should you come to any conclusions. I have to file a report to General Adolphos on the dragon incident by tomorrow evening."  
  
"Yes, lieutenant. Thank you." 


	2. two

Jajuka and his brother stood in the doorway, staring out into the garden, where their father gathered vegetables in the shade evening provided from the summer heat. The air was dry and hot, and the wind brought sand along with it, ready to blow into eyes, noses, and every nook and cranny of the little brick hut the dog-men called home. Jajuka's father was blessed with four children, and cursed with the memory of a dead wife  
  
Jajuka's older sisters were working in the fields beyond the tiny cluster of dog-built houses. His father's leg was bandaged, and he walked with a limp, and thus earned the privilege of staying home with his youngest children, who stood in the doorway, watching him work in the little garden.  
  
"You -could- come out to help, you know," his father said, with a grin. "Jajuka, pull your brother out here and gather up these roots, hmm?"  
  
The black furred dog-child wrinkled his nose and looked up at Jajuka. "You go help with the garden. I'm. uh. I don't feel good."  
  
"Madeke, that's not going to work. He's looking right at you." Jajuka dutifully stepped outside, pulling along his little brother by the scruff of the neck. Madeke grinned and wagged his tail.  
  
"Aww, come on, we could all take a walk or something, we don't have to -garden-."  
  
"Afraid we do, little one." His father waived a tuber at the pup. "These are all ready to be picked, and if we don't take them now, the bugs will. Unless, of course, you like to eat buggy food."  
  
"I don't mind buggy food," Madeke insisted. Jajuka laughed.  
  
"Big, fat, waxy beetle grubs, crawling all over your salad. You don't mind that?"  
  
Madeke put his hands on his hips. "Nope! Not at all!"  
  
"Big, fat, waxy -maggots-, crawling all over."  
  
"Jajuka!" Father laughed, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "You keep going, and you'll put -me- off my dinner. Now give your father a hand."  
  
Madeke and Jajuka knelt in the soil, and dug around, rooting up the tubers and piling them into the basket at their father's feet.  
  
"Marsele is gonna get a chicken tonight, right?" Madeke's ears perked.  
  
"Really, a chicken, she said?" Jajuka cocked his head, and looked from his little brother to his father.  
  
"I hope so," Father said, shaking dirt off a cluster of tubers. "We can cook it with some of that honey she brought home the other day. It'll be real good."  
  
The dog-people worked the land that belonged to one Lord Bestian, in exchange for meager pay, and the occasional extra reward. The children didn't understand that they were trapped, that if their father went anywhere else, they stood a good chance of being enslaved. It was only here, on the Zaibach border, where no one else wanted to be, that their lord was eccentric enough to entice the beast-men, rather than force them, to stay.  
  
Marsele and her sister, Sati, came home as the sun set. Their darkened silhouettes showed that one carried a struggling, much anticipated bird. Madeke ran out to greet the two, hopping up and down, tail going back and forth like a whip, as he jabbered on. Marsele would only get in a word or two, before Madeke would pick up again. The two were similar in appearance, both with their mother's black fur. Sati was silver, almost white, the odd one of the family. Jajuka and his father were the splitting image of each other. Sati was anybody's guess. She held the chicken up out of Madeke's reach.  
  
"Come on, pup! You'll scare it to death before we have a chance to slaughter it!"  
  
Jajuka watched from the doorway, smiling, and holding back his laughter. His father stood behind him, and put a hand on his calmer son's shoulder.  
  
"Go get my knife. Let's get this over with."  
  
Jajuka nodded, and ducked past his father, back into the hut. He went over to his father's bedroll, and pulled a knife out from under the pillow. It was a curved blade, in a battered, leather sheath. It was older than Jajuka's father, and probably older than his grandfather as well, but when he drew it, the polished steal gleamed in the dim light inside the hut. He stared at it for a moment, imagined that it was a sword he was swinging at some vile foe. He sheathed the blade, and pretended, as he walked to the door, that he was returning, triumphant, from this heroic deed. The purpose in his step, and the way he handed the knife over to his father, hilt first, with a little bow, gave him away.  
  
Father reached down and ruffled his hair. "Aren't you the proper knight, then?"  
  
Jajuka woofed, embarrassed, and smiled, sheepishly, down at the ground.  
  
"Hey, no harm there, my good sir. Shall we dispatch this foul, draconic chicken, before it burns down the entire manor?"  
  
Jajuka looked up, and his smile widened.  
  
"Oh, father, it's not the chicken's fault it's gonna be food. Let's just go take care of this and make some dinner."  
  
"That sounds good, too. I'm starving."  
  
Sati handed Jajuka the squawking, squirming rooster. The pup struggled to hold onto the bird, grasping it around the middle in both arms. Its legs flailed about, scratching him.  
  
"No, no, get it by the legs! Ow. careful there, little brother." Sati grabbed the bird again and demonstrated the right grip to Jajuka, as Marsele stepped towards her father.  
  
"By the way, Father," she whispered. "Lord Bestian said he would be by, when his evening supper's done, and we've had time to eat and such. He wanted to talk to you about something."  
  
The older dog cocked his head. "What of?"  
  
"I'm not sure. It's a private matter, I imagine."  
  
"Ah. The pups should be in bed by then, at any rate."  
  
"Father, the chicken's biting me!"  
  
"Whoops! Be right there!" Father followed Jajuka, and drew the knife to dispatch the doomed bird. Sati steered Madeke back into the hut, since he was still too little to watch a rooster run around with its head cut off.  
  
* * *  
  
Madeke slept by the fire, curled up in a fuzzy black ball of contentment, his stomach full of chicken. Jajuka, on the other hand, kept one eye open. His father and sisters always stayed up later than the boys did, but while Marsele and Sati finally settled down in their bedrolls and fell asleep, his father never even came inside.  
  
Jajuka listened carefully to his sisters, as their breathing slowed. When he was certain they were both asleep, he crept outside.  
  
The locusts chirped and the wind whistled, the constant, forgettable night sounds of the desert. It was cold here at night, and the winds bitter, but Jajuka's thick fur made for perfect insulation. He stepped, barefoot, around the house. There was no sign of his father here.  
  
Jajuka canted his head and listened again, then sniffed the air. It carried the faint sent of human, mixed in with the familiar home smells. His father was there, too, so he walked off in that direction.  
  
The two stood at the edge of the field, talking in voices too quiet for Jajuka to hear from this far away. He sneaked closer, hid in the grasses, and strained to hear.  
  
".but it's been very hard, sir, after Jelre died."  
  
"I understand that, Marja. I don't want to do this any more than you want to, believe me. It's not right. Know that I know it's not right. But my orders demand it, and I must obey, or they'll take my land, and then all of us will suffer."  
  
"But why must you take one from me?!" His father's hackles rose. Jajuka could barely make out that detail, he could clearly smell the fear and anger coming off the older dog-man. Jajuka shivered.  
  
"Your boys and Tenra's are the only ones the age they want." Lord Bestian put his hand on Marja's shoulder, but the dog took a step back. "Marja, I waited so long to tell you because I tried to get them to change this. I tried to get them to take care of this somewhere else, but I couldn't. They're here now, at my manor. They only want two. I can't take two of Tenra's instead, just the same as I can't take two of yours."  
  
"No," Marja growled. "No, I suppose you can't. Let them pluck gecko whelps from the woods, if they want children. I can't let you take my boys."  
  
"Only one."  
  
"You would have me choose?!" The dog man bared his teeth, but averted his gaze. It wasn't his place to challenge.  
  
"You don't have to," Bestian said. "I can do it for you."  
  
"When will you?"  
  
"Now."  
  
"Now?!"  
  
"Would later be any different?"  
  
Marja woofed, and turned away from the human, who sighed.  
  
"I've decided to take Madeke."  
  
"He's so young!"  
  
"He's more outgoing than Jajuka, and less stubborn. I think he'll adapt better."  
  
"I don't want your justifications, Bestian!" Marja's voice rose to a howl. "Do what you must, and go, but do not expect me to forgive you for stealing my youngest child from me!"  
  
"Marja."  
  
"Go!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Marja."  
  
Marja snarled and stalked off into the field, leaving Lord Bestian standing there at the edge.  
  
Jajuka sucked in a deep breath, and stood. "I'll go with him," he said. Bestian jumped, then saw the slight figure of the gold-furred pup against the blackness of the surrounding grasses.  
  
"Jajuka? What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'll go with him," the boy repeated, ignoring the question. Marja stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Jajuka, and ran over to him.  
  
"You have no idea what you're saying. Lord Bestian is turning your brother over to Zaibach servitude."  
  
"I figured," Jajuka said softly. "And someone should go with him. Otherwise there's no one there he knows to look after him."  
  
Marja covered his eyes with his hand. "No, I couldn't bear to loose the both of you."  
  
"Then Tenra wouldn't have to loose anybody, and Madeke wouldn't be alone." Jajuka looked from his father to Bestian. "Would that work?"  
  
"Your father doesn't approve."  
  
"I don't approve of any of this!" Marja threw down his hand and made a fist. "Jajuka, you'd give your entire life away."  
  
"And if Madeke has to, so should I."  
  
Marja shut his eyes, and turned back to the field. He stalked off, without another word, but at least he could shed his tears in private.  
  
Jajuka sank down and sat in the grass, pulling at a dry stem. Bestian looked down at him, with amazement on his face.  
  
"You really want to do this?"  
  
"No. But I have to. Father understands that, I think. I hope. That's why he left, right? You're. not going to take us tonight, are you? I won't have any time to say goodbye." He whined, and tucked his knees up under his chin. "I don't want to leave, sir. Where are we going?"  
  
"I don't know. The capital, I'd imagine."  
  
"Will we be separated?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"So we don't have to go tonight? Please?"  
  
"No, no, not tonight. Not until tomorrow night."  
  
"That's soon."  
  
"I know, I waited as long as I could."  
  
Jajuka nodded, and hugged his legs. Bestian was quiet for several minutes.  
  
"You're a brave boy, Jajuka, braver than I would have been. Don't let me condescend to your age. you're a brave man. They should recognize that in Zaibach, make a soldier out of you."  
  
"I want to be a knight," the boy said sullenly.  
  
"You should have been born in Asturia. They would have made you a knight there."  
  
Jajuka looked up at the man, teeth flashing in anger.  
  
"There's way more things that should be, than actually are. You said you don't want to do this, but you're doing it anyway. You could fight it, but you aren't, because it's easier. I'm not going to sit around thinking about how things could be easier while having to go along with what's not."  
  
Lord Bestian looked away from the boy. "You're eloquent for a nine year old, but that won't help you when they teach you your place. They've taught me mine, Jajuka, and I've learned not to argue. You'd do best to learn the same." He walked back towards the manor house, on the other end of the field.  
  
Jajuka walked back to his house. Halfway there, Marja ran up behind him, and grabbed his son by the arm. "We're leaving," he said, roughly. "We have to leave -now-."  
  
* * *  
  
Madeke, whimpering softly into the blanket he clutched to his chest, stood close to his brother. Sati, Marsele, and Marja scrambled to tie all their meager belongings together into their bedrolls. Marja held his father's knife in his teeth as he worked.  
  
"Where are we going, Jajuka? Madeke asked between whines. Jajuka put his hand on the younger pup's head.  
  
"I don't know. The people who boss around Lord Bestian wanted to take you and me away, so we're leaving. Father wants to stand strong, instead of give in to bad orders." His face was bright with pride as he watched his father work.  
  
"We do that by running away?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Oh." Madeke gnawed on the corner of his blanket. Sati dropped a bound bedroll into Jajuka's arms, with a grimace. "There you are, little brother. That too much for you to hold onto?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Let's get going," Marsele said, as she rushed by, holding onto her own, larger bundle. Sati picked up another roll, and Marja ducked out of the hut carrying two.  
  
"Head along the south edge of the field. We need to stay as far from the manor house as possible," Marja whispered, and motioned for his family to follow him into the night.  
  
* * *  
  
Sergeant Ceaslin Rahn rode through the desert, with five of his men riding at his side. Their mount's hooves clamored on the stones and hard packed earth of the northern road. Without light, they moved at a slow pace. The desert was full of burrows and rocks, both of which the horsemen would rather avoid, in the dark hours right before dawn.  
  
Lord Bestian, grim and shrouded in a black wool traveling cloak, rode behind the others, on his spotted horse. He alone was unarmed. The others carried swords at their sides.  
  
"Are you certain they'll come this way, sergeant?"  
  
"You said they would leave Zaibach." Rahn narrowed his eyes and stared ahead.  
  
"But not by the roads," Bestian said.  
  
"But on foot, they won't have traveled so far as the first border stone."  
  
"Once dawn comes, then, they'll stand out plain, from the hill ahead." Bestian pointed off into the dark.  
  
"Good. How far is it?"  
  
"Five miles."  
  
"Good."  
  
Bestian nodded once. The party plodded on, silent as they could, down the road.  
  
* * *  
  
The wind still blew strong, and the night was quiet. Sound and smell carried far, in the open lands, where Marja and his little band stumbled through prickly desert scrub. Their heads were draped with cloth, which kept out some of the blowing sands.  
  
"I smell him," Marja said, his words barely more than the wind itself. "Marsele?"  
  
The young woman pulled back the gray cloth from her face, and held her muzzle up into the air. Taking in a deep breath, she rolled the air around on her tongue, then nodded.  
  
"He's to the northwest, far, and with others," she whispered.  
  
"We'll go east from here." Marja set down, and rearranged his load, before scooping it up again and turning in that direction.  
  
Sati shook her head. "Would he not be headed east, father? He's not a stupid man. He'll try to head us off at the border."  
  
"Where would you take us, then? Further into Zaibach."  
  
Sati shrugged.  
  
"We could head south. We'd meet up with the coast eventually, and we could west into the forests near Fanelia. The wolves live there. We would be safe, if they'd let us enter," Marja said. Sati and Marsele nodded.  
  
Jajuka and Madeke stood behind their sisters. Jajuka held his bundle under one arm, and a gnarled stick in his hand. It was hardly his father's knife, which the older dog carried openly, but, at least, it was something.  
  
"Horses," he said, rubbing his nose. "There's horses, too."  
  
Marja's ears went back. He sniffed again, and nodded. "Aye. They're on horseback."  
  
"Father, we can't keep walking. They'll spot us as soon as the sun rises, and if they're on horseback. we need to hide." Marsele sighed. "But I don't know where. If we keep going, they'll catch us."  
  
"I wish there was somewhere -to- hide," Marja said grimly. "We'll have to keep moving, and hope to find cover ahead." Sati opened her mouth, but Marja raised his hand. "I don't like this either, but we have to." The girls nodded again.  
  
Madeke was young, and the hour late. He struggled to keep up with the others, lagging further and further behind. Marja had to put the boy on his shoulders, giving one of his bundles over to Sati, as the pup snuggled against his father's back and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Jajuka fought to keep his eyes open. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, the bite of the stick's bark against his palm, the chill air, the locust buzz, but found his thoughts continuously straying to home, and his warm bedroll by the fire. His eyes fixed on his sleeping little brother, and he imagined what sort of dreams one would have, being carried through the desert like that.  
  
It was his turn to lag behind. Marsele slowed down, and went to walk beside him. She smiled, her eyes just as weary, down at her little brother, and offered him a hand. Jajuka threw the stick into the brush, and grabbed his sister's paw, as they continued through the desert near the border. 


End file.
